


Three Times a Dead Demon

by IneffableAlien



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Aziraphale is a Little Shit (Good Omens), Bad Jokes, Dramatic Crowley (Good Omens), Established Relationship, Flirting, Humor, Humorous Ending, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Jealous Crowley (Good Omens), M/M, Post-Canon, Snake Crowley (Good Omens), St James's Park (Good Omens), Temporary Character Death, Thot Aziraphale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-31
Updated: 2019-10-31
Packaged: 2021-01-15 14:10:37
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,247
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21254648
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffableAlien/pseuds/IneffableAlien
Summary: The demon turned and gave a cheery wave. “Hullo there! You must be the demon Crow—”Crowley made it so no one was looking, pushed the demon into oncoming traffic, and swaggered into the shop.Nobody steals Crowley's man without a fight.





	Three Times a Dead Demon

**Author's Note:**

> I was given the following prompt on a Discord: "Another demon catches an interest in Aziraphale, and Crowley just _goes off."_
> 
> Oh, and happy Halloween!

The first time he laid eyes on Crowley, he lasted all of six seconds.

Crowley had just passed the window of the adult bookstore next to Aziraphale’s shop, when he caught whiff of something strange. His first thought was, _Somebody really ought to mop those back booths._ His next thought was, _Huh,_ because Crowley realized it wasn’t lust he was smelling. This was some low-grade evil.

_Entry_-level evil, he thought with disgust.

He reached the corner, and there was a dark-eyed, deceptively youthful demon standing in front of the bookshop.

The demon turned and gave a cheery wave. “Hullo there! You must be the demon Crow—”

Crowley made it so no one was looking, pushed the demon into oncoming traffic, and swaggered into the shop.

The next day, Crowley panicked.

He had returned to the bookshop, as he had done almost every day since the world didn’t end (and the days he didn’t return were usually because he’d never left), and the sickly smoky scent of another demon hadn’t whacked him in the face until he reached the entrance.

Visions of books burning filled Crowley’s mind.

_**“Aziraphale!”**_ he shouted, as he raced into the shop. _“Azira …”_

Aziraphale glanced up casually from where he was sitting. “My dear boy,” he said, “you look positively petrified! What’s gotten into you?”

“You’re sharing cocoa,” Crowley said blandly. He pointed at the mug in Aziraphale’s hands, like maybe Aziraphale was unaware of that fact. “With a demon.”

Aziraphale waved one hand dismissively. “Oh, it’s fine, the bookshop is safe as houses these days against any, er, outside forces,” he said, as if that explained anything at all (it didn’t).

Actually, Aziraphale was the only one having cocoa. The extraneous entity was drinking tea. Crowley scowled theatrically when he noticed how the demon sipped with his pinky up.

The whole thing made no sense to Crowley. When he had witnessed a demon on the angel’s front stoop the other day, he had reacted exactly the way you would expect someone to react, if that someone was a demon, and he and his angel boyfriend were in Heaven and Hell’s bad books because they had recently averted the Apocalypse and then made an abject mockery of both sides’ legal systems.

It was a very specific reaction.

That said, Crowley could sense that the demon in front of him was so far down the corporate ladder that it should have taken at least ten years for him to be issued a new body.

“Hold on,” Crowley worked out, with mounting horror, “I know you.”

The other demon—whose name was Eric—wrinkled his nose. “Nope, afraid we have not yet met. But, I am a big fan of your work!”

Crowley _had_ met Eric, albeit for barely a minute, but it was a minute one could never forget without magical intervention. But he was not free to say that, not without spilling to an associate of Hell the truth about how Aziraphale had withstood the punishment of Heaven.

“Oh, Crowley!” said Aziraphale, sounding as if this was utterly endearing. “Did you hear that? He’s a fan!” Aziraphale stood, taking Eric’s teacup. “Now, let me refill that for you, my dear. I’m sure you two have plenty in common to chitchat about as I make a fresh pot.”

Crowley made an agonized sound when Aziraphale left the room that loosely meant “That’s so racist, and also did you just call another demon ‘my dear,’ and also what is my life.”

_“Why. Are. You. Here,”_ Crowley snarled through clenched teeth.

“I mean, it’s obvious, innit?” Eric said with a grin. “He’s the angel who survived bloody hellfire! And he’s not bad-looking, either, in a sugar daddy kind of way, and,” Eric wriggled his eyebrows, “well, we both know he’s got a taste for demon, amirite?”

“I’ll kill you,” Crowley said flatly.

“And I’ll come right back,” Eric said smugly.

Crowley snapped his fingers, and the other demon found himself flattened beneath every unopened shipment of Jeffrey Archer books within a 45-mile radius.

_“Crowley!”_ a voice scolded from the kitchen.

_“Hrrrrnnnnggggh,_ how do you keep coming back so fast?!” Crowley was pulling his own hair.

Eric shrugged. “Dunno how it works. S’just what I do.”

“Oh, Eric!” Aziraphale interrupted, trying to redirect the conversation to anything more pleasant. “Tell Crowley that joke you told me, about Meggido! Oh, Crowley, you’ll like this.”

Crowley doubted that.

“Oh, right!” said Eric. “It’s just, before Armageddon, yeah? We always used to say,” Eric paused dramatically—“‘It’s gonna be one big avocado!’”

Crowley stared. “Wot.”

“It’s because they grow avocados there,” Eric explained helpfully.

“That, that’s not a joke! That’s not even a pun, that’s not a punchline, that, _that’s not anything!”_

Aziraphale gave Eric a certain look. “He was never really one for understanding jokes,” Aziraphale confided.

**“HNNNNGH!!”**

Crowley kept it simple, with a tire iron that really had no business ever fitting inside his pocket like that, and this time he didn’t even wait for Aziraphale to leave the room.

“Oh, now _this_ is unbelievable!” Crowley wailed. “Now you’re bringing hellspawn to _our_ park?!” _Other_ hellspawn, his mind supplied grumpily.

Aziraphale chuckled as he tossed a crust to an especially eager-looking duck. “Crowley, you old silly,” he said, “is that what this is really about? You’re jealous?”

“Pff,” said Crowley. “M’not jealous.”

“Aziraphale was just telling me how you could use more friends,” Eric said in a chipper tone.

“Oh, it’s _on,”_ Crowley muttered, low enough that the angel didn’t hear.

“Well. I am going to get all of us some ice cream,” Aziraphale said. “Crowley, please do try to be a bit sociable for a change. I feel like we owe _one_ nice day to our new young friend after all his … _inconvenient discorporations_ this week.”

“He’s not actually young! Or our friend!” Crowley shouted after Aziraphale as the angel walked away.

_“Holy_ moly,” Eric said comically, “you know, you really shouldn’t be so negative all the time. You’re gonna make it so he doesn’t want to hang out with you.”

“‘Holy’ … right,” Crowley said, tasting the words. He gave Eric a smile that suddenly seemed to have too many teeth. “Say, Eric,” he said, “remember you mentioned how Aziraphale could survive hellfire? Do you even realize what was going on with me, when that happened? When I, y’know, incurred the wrath of all the Legions of the Damned, and whatnot.”

Eric looked uneasy. “Ehh, I’ve heard stories,” he said. “You, uh. You bathed in …” Eric looked around to see if anyone else was listening, continued _sotto voce: “… holy water.”_

“Oh, I can do more than just bathe in it,” Crowley promised. “Heaven, I drink the stuff for breakfast. To keep my tolerance level up. _Bloodstream’ssssssss_ full of it. I wonder,” he hissed, letting his fangs curve enough to show, “what my venom would do to another demon now.”

“Oh, uh, haha,” Eric babbled, “you know, you two seem like you have a really great thing going, plenty of other occult beings in the sea, and all that, wouldn’t want to cause any problems in your relationship …”

“Glad we’re finally on the _ssssssssame_ page.”

Eric scrammed.

Aziraphale returned, and handed Crowley a vanilla ice cream cone with a Flake. “Huh,” he said, “I just saw Eric run right past me, not even saying a word. Whatever do you think that was all about?”

“Dunno,” said Crowley, savoring a frosty bite. “Must have been one pretty big avocado.”

**Author's Note:**

> xx [siliconealien](http://siliconealien.tumblr.com)


End file.
